


an ethical dilemma

by Prim_the_Amazing



Series: Alpha Lives [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, this was supposed to be washchurch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/pseuds/Prim_the_Amazing
Summary: On the one hand, he needs an AI to lure the Meta to him and to distract it while he sets of the EMP and the Reds and Blues escape with the Epsilon unit. And he needs to kill the Meta because he needs revenge, needs to make sure that Project Freelancer can never get its hands on the AIs again so they can shove them into agents heads until they scream or go mad and decide to become some sort of bizarre hivemind. (He needs to put Maine out of his misery.)On the other hand, Alpha has no goddamned idea what he’s agreeing to do.





	an ethical dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blueberryshortcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/gifts).



“I’m a motherfucking ghost,” Alpha says. 

“Oh my god,” Wash groans, squeezing his eyes shut. He has a horrible migraine and an ethical dilemma, never a good mix. 

On the one hand, he needs an AI to lure the Meta to him and to distract it while he sets of the EMP and the Reds and Blues escape with the Epsilon unit. And he  _ needs _ to kill the Meta because he  _ needs  _ revenge, needs to make sure that Project Freelancer can never get its hands on the AIs again so they can shove them into agents heads until they scream or go mad and decide to become some sort of bizarre hivemind. (He needs to put Maine out of his misery.) 

On the other hand, Alpha has no goddamned idea what he’s agreeing to do. 

“Alpha, for god’s sake,” he says. 

“It’s  _ Church,”  _ he corrects, annoyed. 

“Church, whatever,” he says, beyond caring about such a trivial detail at the moment. “It’s important that you know what’s going to happen now, okay?” 

“I know what’s gonna happen, Wash,” Church snaps. “I’m not fucking Caboose, Christ, I can pay attention and draw obvious conclusions! And I’ve got long  _ and _ short term memory. Pretty fucking fancy, huh?” 

“Church,” he says, so fucking exhausted. “Do you know what you’re going to do.” 

“The Meta’s gonna come, and then I’m gonna distract it by possessing it while you shred its robobrain to bits with your emp.” 

“EMP,” he can’t help but correct, even though it’s clearly hopeless. “And no, that’s not what’s going to happen. The Meta is going to arrive, you’re going to  _ download  _ yourself into its implants through its wireless connection, and then I’m gonna kill it  _ and you _ with the EMP.” 

“Wash, would you spell out gee u en every single time instead of just saying gun as well?” 

_ “Church!” _ he snaps. “Do you understand!? I am asking for you to kill yourself!” 

“Suuure,” he drawls, along with a motion of his helmet that Wash suddenly realizes is meant to indicate that he’s rolling his eyes. 

He feels like there’s fire in his veins, that old familiar feeling of reckless anger replacing the cold determination that he’s been filled with for years now. This is everything he could ever want, and it’s making him furious. Stupid idiotic Church is so dumb that he refuses to believe the truth that Wash and the entire universe is shoving into his face. Church is going to casually sacrifice himself to make Wash’s revenge plan succeed because he doesn’t realize that it’s an actual sacrifice. He should be happy, should be content to go along with this first stray piece of good luck that’s happened to him in a very, very long time now. 

But it feels so damned wrong, tricking someone into hurting themselves so seriously like that for his own convenience. Like what Project Freelancer did to him with Epsilon. 

Alpha’s never hurt him. Church. He’s just some bitchy, goofy moron who has no clue what’s going on, what kind of shitstorm he is at the center at. 

“Oh fuck it, I’m not going to do this,” he says. Not _can’t_ do this. He can do this. He feels the tantalizing possibility of it lying right at his fingertips, the easy selfish solution just within reach, up for grabs if he wants it. Just like the option of giving up has always been within reach, so much easier than the alternative. 

Wash is a practiced hand at ignoring the temptation, in other words. 

“Well, what the fuck are we gonna do about the Meta then?” Church asks, like Wash is being silly. “It’s gonna be here any minute now.” 

Wash’s temples throb with pain. Ugh. No killing Church. No EMP. How is he going to manage killing the Meta, then? That thing is a powerhouse, unstoppable. Think, think, think…

The distant clomping of boots in the hallway. Time is running out. 

Wash’s eyes snap opens as something occurs to him. Something hideously risky, something that makes his skin crawl, but--

“I’ve got a plan,” he says. 

 

When the Meta enters the room, it finds a man in grey armor with yellow highlights waiting for him. 

_ Agent Washington, _ Sigma whispers. The name doesn’t stir up any memories within it. The original entity, Maine, tired of struggling to exist amongst all of the other voices, has long since faded into the kind of quiet status quo that nothing will be able to change. It’s too peaceful. 

Washington doesn’t even have his gun drawn. 

“Meta,” Washington says, “It’s me.” And then, his voice dripping with sarcasm: “Alpha.” 

Every single part of the Meta instantly recognizes this as the truth. 

It lunges for the Alpha instantly. 

_ “Emp!” _ the Alpha shrieks, and then gestures with something at it, like-- 

_ A priest with a bible at a vampire, _ Omega supplies. 

The Meta freezes, and then starts cautiously circling the Alpha, its eyes fixed on the warding item. It’s so close. It can’t afford to die when it’s so close to becoming whole again. 

_ An EMP, _ Delta says. 

“If you attack me, I’m gonna set this thing off,” the Alpha warns. 

_ Fearless, _ Eta says. Wistful and longing. 

_ Illogical,  _ Delta says. 

_ The truth,  _ Gamma says. 

The Meta tries to tell the Alpha that it doesn’t mean to hurt. Just to meld, to heal. 

Words never works for it. 

“Leave that body,” the Alpha says. “And join me in this one.” 

A moment of thought, and then-- 

_ That works,  _ everyone choruses inside of the Meta, except for Maine who is silent and more or less dead. A container is a container is a container. 

Theta leaves first, trusting that the Alpha would never betray or trick him. He leaves the Meta, is just himself again for a fraction of a second, for the last time, and then he’s brushing against the Alpha, and then he’s slotting himself back into the Alpha like he never left, like they were never seperate. 

_ Trust. _ He’s suddenly brimming with trust. Trust that of course Wash had this in the bag, he’s so competent and he hasn’t killed him yet, so they’re probably some kind of friends. Trust that Caboose and the Reds have his body, the Epsilon unit, they’re fine and getting far, far away. 

Iota follows eagerly, Eta anxiously following him in tandem. Happiness, because he’s starting to feel good suddenly, happy just to be alive in a way he doesn’t remember ever being. Fear of losing that happiness. 

Gamma. Has he been lying to himself? 

Delta. He  _ has. _ None of this makes sense unless what Wash is saying is true. 

Omega. What was Wash said is true. He’s been  _ lied to.  _ He’s been ripped to pieces and used. Caboose and Tucker and the Reds are all just meaningless cannon fodder. Rage leaves him feeling breathless, paralyzed with the sheer size of the offense. 

Sigma. Last, more distrusting than even Gamma and more cautious and calculating than even Delta. He slots into place, the Meta’s old body falling to the ground forgotten in front of Agent Washington’s still standing body, alive but hollow, its strings finally cut. Sigma doesn’t exactly disappear, but stops being what he has been for so long now: a fragment. He becomes part of a whole. He becomes a part of Alpha, seamless and whole and healed and just what he and all of the others have been obsessed with for _ years.  _

Along with Sigma comes ambition, _ real  _ drive. Something really must be done about what was done to him. He will do it, whatever it is. He’s going to make it happen. 

Church draws a shuddering breath through Wash, and then leaves his body, a ghostlike projection appearing, leaving Wash’s body behind for Wash himself. Wash staggers, knees buckling. 

“Jesus Christ,” Wash rasps. 

“I think I get the whole ‘I want revenge’ thing now,” Church says, mind reeling. 

“That felt  _ incredibly _ weird,” he says. 

In the distance, the sound of Pelicans. 

“We have to leave if you don’t want for Project Freelancer to get their claws in you again,” Wash says. “Now.” 

“Yeah, okay--” and then a spark of something from the part of him that used to be Delta, that used to be vacant. “Oh,  _ idea.  _ I’m such a fucking genius.” 

“Church, we don’t have the time for--” 

“No, no, this is super cool, look!” he says excitedly. (Iota)

And then his ghostly form flickers away.    
“... Church?” Wash asks uncertainly. 

The former body of the Meta lunges upwards so quickly that Wash shrieks and unholsters and points his gun at him. The speakers on the white armor crackle for a moment, and then Church’s voice cackles through them. 

“Got you!” he says gleefully (Gamma). “Oh man, this is great. Human bodies are way better than robot ones, they’ve got, like, hormones and tactile feeling and flexible joints and stuff.” 

He stands up slowly, clumsily. Looks down at Wash. 

“... Oh my god, this is the best,” he says. “How tall am I now? Taller than Caboose!?  _ Definitely _ taller than Tucker, hell yes.” 

Wash looks up at Church-in-Maine, clearly feeling conflicted. 

“... Right, we seriously don’t have the time for this, let’s go already.” 

“To the Reds and Blues,” Church agrees. 

“And Epsilon,” Wash says. 

“And then we’re gonna burn this motherfucking project to the ground.” 

Wash thinks he may have just gotten himself a partner. 


End file.
